I don’t know, Papa, but sometimes just talking to you is the best I can do, like with BFF. Guess you are one of those to me.
Beanni and I knelt at the window, watching couples putting their yards in. Even for Michigan, the signs are of Spring. Winter kept me confused, not sure where I was, when it was. I even got angry at you, because you know how my loss of date and day of the week cause me so much confusion. At least with snow, I had a clue. For us it would be somewhere between November and May. But when you stopped the snow in January I’ve felt like that silver roller in Pinball, bouncing around not sure where I will land, or if another nickel was to be popped into the machine to send me on yet more searches.
Today was beautiful, as so many of the days you have blessed us with. Beanni and I watch the activity with our noses pressed against the glass of the window, going room to room according to Bean’s priorities. From our 2nd floor world we watched my neighborhood bustle with gardening, grass mowing, and creating beautiful flower beds. The kids were riding bikes, older couples walking by hand-in-hand. And Beanni and I as far away from them as if we were in Europe. He cannot go out cuz he likes to run ‘wild’, and I cannot go out because I cannot go out.
I remember how many great gardens I’ve planted and worked on as a child with my wonderful mom, and through the years as Jim and I moved as he was assigned. I had a dwarf historical apple orchard when we were in Hickory Corners. And cherry trees, and child-size plum trees.
Once I had a lovely English braided herb garden. And the flowers? Best ever, from seed.
Now I look at my beautiful yard and see fresh weeds, barren spots, all the little corners that need tender care. Last year 5 of my 6 rose bushes died, and all of my perennials. It was a period of mourning. Years and years have passed without fresh veggies and berries.
I tried to go out with pup, Beanni, just to pull weeds on the bald spot in my yard… I couldn’t stay. And I came inside to weep, missing what was and wrestling with what is, and is yet to be.
There are times I want to shout “I’m still here!!!” But “I” am ever changing. Am I diminishing? I don’t know. But who I was is gone. Papa, I am so afraid and unaccepting of the changes happening.
But the day is still beautiful, even crouched behind a rippled window. And it still amazes me, even tho’ what I see isn’t mine.
Now, don’t screw up and have it snow, ok??
It’s me, Vicki
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Vicki, thank you again for sharing from your heart. I always think of Spring as a time of new life as leaves and blossoms start to fill barren branches and flowers begin to bloom. In this post, though, we see you and Beanni looking out, unable to participate in Springtime. You have the treasure of memories of your earlier gardens – enjoy these memories as a gift from Papa. And remember that many of us are with you in spirit and prayer. And if I could, I’d be in your yard right now planting new flowers for this new Spring.
Jim
Jimbo, what can I say? Without you I would be silent. +++, V
My dear sweet Vicki! Your words meant so much to me about looking out the window and being unable to do what you want to do. My dad went through the same thing. He would sit at the windows for hours just watching the birds and the trees getting leaves as he always planted a flower garden and a vegetable garden. He would talk (when he still could) about the old days when we all (my brother, mother and I) would be outside while he tilled the garden and then we all helped plant. Spring is definitely the renewal time, when browns turn back to brilliant greens and flowers start slowly poking awake. enjoy looking at your window and watching all that is resurfacing. If I knew where you lived, I’d be so happy to come plant some flowers for you. Michigan isn’t that far from Indiana. Papa is so happy to provide us with wonderful sights and scenes and flowers and trees that I know He’s particularly happy that you’ve been enjoying watching the activities. You are such an amazing woman. One I have learned so much from and will continue to learn from. Bless you, for you have provided such renewed faith in me that was lost when I lost my father. Oh, and I’m serious, I’d love to come plant a flower garden for you.
Love you bunches,
Michelle Burdette
Sending love and prayers. Thinking of you way more than I write. Keep sharing your story. You help more people than you’ll ever know.
I hope I still reign as “Ma PDS” in your life. Who knew you even remember me, let alone watch out for me. I love you, PDS son, and the remaining group out there. Thank you & blessings, Ma PDS
Vicki, it’s your friend John and I want to say that I enjoyed reading your post although it makes me sad to think about your anguish at not being able to go outside to garden and tend to your yard. Enjoy your memories, I have many memories of other things from my past that are now impossible and I mourn the loss but I do still enjoy the memory of it none the less. Someday even those memories will be taken from me so at least I still have those for now. Take care my friend, ours is not an easy road to walk and it takes a great deal of courage to walk that road. Thanks for sharing.
Johnny, I hardly know thee, but you have become one of my favorite friends. Your taunting of me to keep up on those darned FB games is the only thing that gets me out of bed some days (I got behind this weekend when Internet went out, poop!)
Love your insight to cherish the memories, for they will soon be erased. And so I shall. May you have an amazing life, as I am fighting to do.
Blessings from Pere Cheney (CityVille), Vic
Dear Vicki,
Let me know if Incan come by and spring forth your yard!! Fran
Hey, Thelma, I actually had help to send you a REAL thank you card, but it came back. Where are you these days? You can leave a message for me on FB.
Louise
Dear Geez Louise,
No thanks necessary. Would like to drop off a few items for your pantry again. No need to be there if you do not feel like visiting. Would that be ok? Thelma